Sylvestia
by Squint-la
Summary: This is a little oneshot I wrote as an original story, but the main character seemed like Zack so I changed a few things to make it Bones-y. The real reason why Zack never drives. Rated for violence.


**AN: This was my entry for the Defining Twilight Essay Contest. It was an original story, but I changed a few things to make it Bones.**

**I own everyone except Zack.**

I am a scientist. I have spent the past several years working towards my doctorate in Forensic Anthropology. I solve murder cases on a daily basis, and I work hard at it. Many would find it hard to believe that I've killed someone before. It wasn't intentional, and it wasn't recent by any means, but the permanence of the memory is great enough that it is always on my mind.

I was sixteen, a nearly average teenage boy, with an extremely high IQ. I was a few grades ahead of others my age, and my four-year-old sister Adelai idolized me. I had just gotten my learner's permit, and only three in my family of eleven could drive. Adelai loved riding in cars; the activity fascinated her. So you can imagine her excitement the Saturday that my mother agreed to oversee me as I drove her around. She was ecstatic. We piled into the car, the thin ice coating parts of the road seeming inconsequential.

After a few miles, my mother leaned over to me and whispered that she needed to use the restroom. We pulled into a gas station and told Adelai that it would only be a moment. Of course she begged to keep going. I had decided that we could make one time around the block before my mother came back. I put the car in drive and stepped on the gas, much to my erratic little sister's delight.

The moment we took the first turn, however, I knew that something had gone wrong. I lost control of the car, and the ice sent us spinning wildly, screaming, and we eventually crashed into the large black Suzuki in the opposite lane. To my utter dismay, I realized instantly who it was: Adelai's best friend Sylvestia Weaver and her father.

The angle of the impact had left me unharmed, but Adelai appeared to be unconscious. One look at her friend told me the same about her. I didn't even bother looking at the girl's father; from the angle we had hit them, there was no way he could have survived.

I managed to stay calm long enough to ask a passerby to call 911 on the nearest pay phone. Once the ambulance arrived, I was unable to answer any questions. My mother was frantic, of course, and all of my siblings were there. My eldest sister Michaela and younger sister Amy were crying into each other's shoulders. Even Lali, who was usually the most calm, had shed a few tears. All of us worried about what would happen to Adelai.

We followed them to the ambulance, Mom and I riding in the back with Adelai, holding her hands. She and her friend had suffered head trauma and were currently unconscious. I detested myself for doing this to her; if I hadn't driven without Mom, she wouldn't be here.

When we arrived at the hospital, the doctor sauntered over to the back._ Hurry up, _I had thought,_ we need help here!_ After a few tests, he came out to the waiting area and informed us that the girls would have no recollection of the event and possibly of the time they were in the hospital. He told us that they may suffer permanent memory problems. I remember being glad that they weren't going to die, however I was eternally angry that they would suffer like this.

The girls were in the hospital for five days; the majority of their time there was spent unconscious. My family was omnipresent in the girls' room, and I never left. My mother brought meals for me and someone always took over when I needed to use the bathroom. Every minute, every second the girls spent awake, I shared it, even if it meant explaining once again how they were in this critical state. Lali teased me about it, saying that I needed to get a life, stopping short when she saw the look on my face. I still detested myself for doing this to my sister and her friend. And Sylvestia's father, dead, because of me. To my knowledge he wasn't the most noble man I knew-I believe he was an alcoholic-but it was an innocent human life that had been lost by my own fault. I was sure I would never forgive myself for that.

Five days after the accident, I woke up to Adelai stirring. She blinked a few times, and then began the usual screaming, crying, and having to be comforted and told what had taken place a few days previously. I called for a doctor, and ran immediately to her side. When he arrived, he checked everything, and then announced the best news of the week. "Looks to be in order; I believe she's woken up for good," were his exact words. I remember it as if it were yesterday.

Unfortunately, Sylvestia did also, and not in a good way. Adelai was out of bed and able to feed herself by four in the afternoon, but Sylvestia was not awake. When she finally woke up that night around nine, the doctor proclaimed some bad news: she would never recover.

Sylvestia now suffers from a form of memory loss in which she loses direct recollection of the previous day each time she wakes up. Her doctors described it as waking up from a dream; you remember right in the morning, but unless it was very eventful, you usually forget by noon. Considering the events that had just taken place, I was sure to be exiled from the Weavers' home. That proved untrue, however. Mrs. Weaver was so elated that I had stayed with Sylvestia that she swore to let me stay whenever I wished. I visited Sylvestia every day until Adelai was old enough to do it herself.

I have thought about this event many times. I swore that I would never drive again, and I stand by it today. I will never again endanger an innocent human life.

**AN: And it's done! I apologize for the way it cuts off, but the limit was 1000 words. I hope you enjoy it!**


End file.
